And she felt smart for figuring things out before her father did. He was always the one who could read people, who knew what you were thinking before you did, what you were going to do before you did it. LaShonda could never resist her father once he started asking questions, but everything in her being told her to keep her mouth shut this time.
CHAPTER 36
Home Calling
Emmett stared at the glass that had been attached to his hand the last few weeks. It was way after midnight, but he couldn’t nod off. Since moving in with Larry, he’d picked up his friend’s habit and become a night owl, too. Insomnia wasn’t his only new trick; he’d started to drink more during the day. Emmett knew it was a problem and he fully intended to do something about it. Soon. Emmett slowly swirled bourbon in a crystal highball, the tawny liquid refracting lamplight in a beautiful dance.
“Here’s to you,” he said and raised his glass to Larry. “You slew the dragon.”
“Don’t throw a party just yet,” Larry advised. “They could still hold out on us.”
“So we’re supposed to hear from them, what, on Monday?”
“Right. Tomorrow. That’s what they said.”
“I know Lauren’s probably wondering what happened, but if you’re not absolutely positive that things are settled then I’m not going to call her yet.”
“Probably wise.”
“Ten months. That’s how long those assholes dragged this thing out. Think they were just hoping Ainslie would die so they wouldn’t have to pay?”
“It happens. It’s not a bad strategy on their part.”
“Fuckers.”
“You can say that again.”
“I think I just did.” Emmett threw back the last of his drink and rose to get a refill. Larry’s bar was a thing of beauty, fully stocked, fancy cocktail shaker and monogrammed napkins. Clients frequently gave him alcohol and bar accessories as a thank-you.
Unlike Larry’s personal disheveled demeanor, his boathouse was a well-maintained jewel on a tidal creek. He kept it clean by owning few things. He lived a Spartan existence that Emmett now found appealing. Owning less, meant less to keep up, less to own you. Larry was a solitary person. Emmett spent his life in constant flux living in a household of females with raw emotions and unpredictable reactions. Larry ate what he wanted when he wanted, scratched when necessary, and watched ballgames on the tube until he fell asleep.
But Emmett’s life was full of women, and try as he might to figure them out, he was forever one step behind, one decision late, one compliment shy.
Larry got up to make another drink. Outside a bird flew in and perched on the deck railing. It was an egret, stark against the shadowy background—a rare treat from a bird that usually shied from humans. The bird didn’t leave but scrunched down searching the water, patient.
They’d spent many evenings fishing off Larry’s deck into the flat, glossy water that mirrored the forest walls.
“I wonder if Lauren’ll take me back.”
“She’ll take you back. Y’all have too much history.”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t act like she misses me much. Total noncontact except when it comes to the kids.”
“You don’t look like you’re freaking out about it.”
“Honestly, and I’m a total bastard for saying this, but it’s been a relief to be away from all that for a while.”
“You are a shit.”
“Well, she kicked me out. I didn’t leave. And let’s not forget I’m unjustly accused.”
“Point taken.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m embarrassed about it, our being separated, I mean. But we needed a break.”
“Be careful. A lot of people who take breaks end up taking them for good.”
There was a familiar ring tone from Emmett’s phone.
“Well, speak of the devil,” Emmett said. “I wonder what’s wrong this late.”
“Maybe she misses you.”
“Yeah. Right.” He flipped open his phone.
“Hey, Lauren. What’s up?” he said.
Lauren was not hysterical, but Emmett could tell she was worried.
“Emmett, you haven’t seen Sloan, have you?”
“Not in a couple of days.”
“So she’s not with you now? You wouldn’t not tell me, would you? I mean if she was with you.”
This hurt his feelings some, but he said, “No. I wouldn’t lie to you. Why? What’s wrong?”
“She’s missing.”
“For how long?”
“I guess a couple of hours now. I thought she was asleep in her bed. I went to check on Ainslie and just thought I’d look in on her. She’s been so strange lately.”
“Stranger than usual?”
“Yes, stranger than usual. Please don’t make light of this, Emmett.”
“I’m not. I swear.”
“She had a fight with her boyfriend yesterday. I…well…I had a little party for Ainslie’s birthday yesterday and my parents came and it wasn’t a big deal or anything.”
Emmett felt a stab in his stomach, but he said, “Okay.”
“So anyway, Sloan didn’t invite Cal, but he showed up. They had a pretty heated exchange out in the driveway.”
“Did she say what it was about?”
“She’s tight-lipped about it. I mean, you know how she is, but she did say she’d broken up with him and he wasn’t very happy about it. He grabbed her arm and hurt her, I think.”
“That little shit.”
“I told her she couldn’t see him anymore for a while. I explained to her about abusive situations, but she just rolled her eyes at me.”
“So she’s okay?”
“I thought she was. I can’t believe she isn’t here. I have no idea when she left. She won’t answer her cell phone. The weirdest thing is her Jeep is still here.”
“Maybe she went for a walk on the beach.”
“This late at night?”
“Maybe, I mean if she was upset. You know how she likes to run off on her own.”
“I guess it’s possible she’s out celebrating the end of school with some other seniors, but she could have told me. I would have let her go.”
“Have you called any of her friends?”
“That’s just it, Emmett. I just realized that I don’t really know her friends anymore. I mean, other than Cal Wannamaker, who does she run around with? I don’t know.”
“I surely don’t know either.”
“I need you to come home.”
Emmett held his breath.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Then she said, “I mean, would you please come home and help me find her?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Emmett drove faster than he should have, considering he’d been drinking. He wasn’t panicked about Sloan. She was just being a teenager, breaking away, making her own decisions. She’d been on that trip to Mexico, so she surely could handle being out a couple of hours on her own. But Lauren saw this as something more than just her being out past curfew. She was truly worried, and if this did indeed have something to do with that boy Sloan was seeing, well, Emmett would just deal with him in a swift fashion, man to man.
He took the front steps two at a time and stood on the porch wondering if he was required to ring his own doorbell. What an odd sensation. He was unsure if he was welcome in the house he had lived in his entire life. He let himself in.
“Hey,” he said to Lauren, who was seated at the kitchen table, phone at the ready. She took one look at him, put her hands over her eyes, and burst into tears. Unsure of what to do, he approached her slowly and reached to touch her shoulder. She kept crying and he kept moving closer until his hands rested on her shoulders and she was hanging on to his waist, sobbing into his chest. He caressed her hair. Tears flowed freely, and when she finally regained control of herself, she had a blotchy face and eyes like roadmaps.
“Should we call the Wannamakers?” s
he asked between shudders.
“That would embarrass her. Let’s don’t just yet. She’s not that late. Look. This is probably just the first time of many more times of her being late. You’re overreacting just a bit at this point. Let’s be patient.”
She considered this, then said, “I need a glass of wine.”
“I’ll get it,” Emmett said and moved to the wine cellar, but it was empty.
“There isn’t any. There isn’t much of anything around here anymore.”
“Rum and Coke, maybe?” he asked.
She was frustrated and let out an angry cry. “God!” she said. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“Look, there’s nothing we can do right now. Just chill.”
Larry called then and Emmett answered and blurted out, “Hey, how long do we have to wait before we can file a missing-persons report?”
“Twenty-four hours, but shut up a second,” Larry said. “I was listening to the scanner. There’s some drug bust down at the school-boat dock. Cal Wannamaker’s name came up. Are you sure Sloan isn’t with him? If she is, she may be headed to jail.”
“Shit,” Emmett said. “What do we do?”
“Don’t do anything. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“What is it?” Lauren asked after he hung up.
“Cal Wannamaker’s just been busted for some sort of drug deal. If Sloan’s with him, we’re going to be bailing her out of jail.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?”
“What are we going to do?”
“Larry said sit tight. He’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“What are we going to do until then?”
“I don’t know. Look, you said her car is still downstairs. I’m going to go walk the beach and look for her. Call my cell if anything changes. I’m going up to scan around before I leave.”
Emmett let himself into Ainslie’s bedroom. Her lizard tanks were empty but she would be filling them with critters again soon. For a second he saw her as she had always been. Her head was buried in a pillow and only her face showed. She seemed so calm and even happy, Emmett thought. He touched the linen at her chin and bent to kiss her forehead. She was hot and sweaty and he checked her for fever but decided she was fine. He had become aware of so many of those caregiver things Lauren had always done.
Emmett grabbed a pair of binoculars from Ainslie’s shelf and climbed up to the widow’s walk. The alcohol had burned away and his mind was razor sharp, his vision very clear in the cool air. The ocean rumbled in like thunder, and like thunder it rolled off down the beach. When he was a child, he believed thunder was arriving waves on the flip side of the sky.
He glassed the beach with Ainslie’s binoculars. Flashes of white surf tumbled in, illuminated by the light of neighbors’ windows, lights that Ainslie would have scolded them for allowing to shine out to the beach. He stood this way for some time, rigid and thorough in his scanning of the beach and the creek behind him. She wasn’t down on their dock, she wasn’t at the neighbor’s pool. Back on the beach, something caught his attention. He trained his glasses on the small figure. The person stopped and teetered a second before crumbling to the sand. A moment later the figure stood again and started up the sandy trail toward their house. Emmett recognized her pale legs.
Down the ladder, the stairs inside, then outside and to the path he ran. She was looking to the house, longing written across her face. Her gaze slowly shifted, and when she recognized him, she crumbled down. He ran to her, soft sand pulling at his every step. He fell to his own knees, ignoring the sting of sand burrs.
He gathered his daughter to him and held her tightly. She was cold, so bone-achingly cold he knew she must be in pain. He stripped his jacket off and pulled it around her. He carried her then, through what seemed like quicksand, back toward the light of home.
CHAPTER 37
Treading Water
“They’re going to question her,” Larry said. “She’s the girlfriend.”
For the last two hours Sloan had slept in Emmett’s leather chair near the fireplace, a blanket wrapped around her. She was shivering when he brought her inside, and Lauren had quickly plied her with hot cocoa. Within ten minutes she was asleep. It was nearing dawn, with none of the adults having slept.
Emmett, Lauren, and Larry were sipping coffee and taking turns pacing the kitchen. Lauren wanted to let her sleep. The men wanted answers.
“She’s back here safe. That’s all I care about right now,” Lauren said.
“Aren’t you just a little curious as to where she’s been?”
“It looks as if she went swimming. That’s all I know.”
“Help me here, Larry.”
Larry shrugged as if to say he couldn’t convince her.
“She’ll tell us. Don’t push her,” Lauren said.
As the morning wore on and the phone didn’t ring, Emmett began to feel relief. Sloan slumbered, occasionally jerking from a fitful dream. Lauren had finally taken a nap, too, and Larry was snoring on the sofa. It was nearing lunchtime and Emmett’s stomach was growling. As he searched the refrigerator, Ainslie came into the kitchen. He’d almost forgotten about his other child.
“Daddy,” she said. She hugged his waist and buried her face against his chest.
“Hey, baby. You slept a long time,” Emmett said and held her tightly.
“Did Sloan come back yet?”
“Yeah, she’s back. Did you know she was gone?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Okay. I’ll make you some scrambled eggs.”
Ainslie rubbed sleep from her eyes and said, “With cheese.”
“With cheese.”
Emmett was stirring the eggs in the nonstick skillet with the soft spatula when Sloan stepped into the kitchen. He’d been meaning to ask Ainslie what she knew. It would have to wait.
“Eggs?” Emmett asked.
“Yes. I’m starving,” she said.
Emmett added more eggs to the skillet, and when they were still slightly wet, he sprinkled in a handful of grated cheese, folded it in, and divided the eggs three ways onto plates. Ainslie made toast and buttered each side. Emmett poured orange juice, and they sat silently eating. The girls had their heads down, concentrating on food as hungry children can. At this moment, here with his daughters, life was perfect again.
Emmett was startled from his thoughts by the doorbell. He heard Lauren move toward the door. He sat still, dreading what could be next. It was probably the cops come to question Sloan, and they had accomplished nothing. Sloan had yet to say one word about where she had been early this morning.
Lauren’s tone was full of venom. “What are you doing here?”
An indiscernible, female voice drew Emmett and Larry to the front door.
To Emmett’s astonishment, Caroline Crawford stood on his porch.
“Please,” she said to Emmett when she saw him. “I’d like to speak with your daughter. Is she here?”
Lauren stood her ground. “What could you possibly want with Sloan?”
“I’m sorry. That’s confidential.”
“What confidential business could you possibly have with my daughter?”
“I’m sorry. I simply can’t say. Is she here?” This last question was directed at Emmett.
Lauren turned on him, daggers flying from her eyes. “What is she doing here?” she hissed.
“I don’t know. I’ll take care of this,” Emmett said. He stepped outside and pulled the front door closed behind him.
“Caroline, what in the world are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to your daughter. She is here, isn’t she?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Look, Emmett. I don’t have time to play games and neither do you. I need to talk to her. She might be in a lot of trouble and I have to talk to her before the police get here. You can rest assured they’re not too far behind me.”
“Wha
t do you know?” he asked.
“What do you know?” she replied.
“Caroline, this is my child we’re talking about.”
“I know. That’s why you have to send her out to talk to me. I can protect her. I can make this whole thing go away from your family.”
“What thing are you talking about? We still don’t know what’s going on and I’m very confused as to why you’re here.”
“You haven’t talked to anybody yet, have you?” she asked.
“Not a person.”
“Great. Then there’s still time. Send her out, Emmett. This affects a lot more people than just Sloan.”
He hesitated. “Wait here,” he said finally.
“Fine.”
Back inside, Emmett brushed past his wife and leaned down to whisper into Sloan’s ear, “There’s a woman outside to speak with you. Her name’s Caroline Crawford. I’m not exactly sure what she wants, but I think you should talk to her. She’s not with the police.”
Sloan sat rigid, her hands spread on the table.
“Go on,” he urged. “It’ll be okay.”
He followed Sloan outside and watched as she shook hands with Caroline. The woman motioned for her to follow her and they walked down the stairs and headed toward the beach. He thought briefly of Caroline’s shoes and saw that she wore sensible ones today. This was when he realized his daughter was barefoot. He hadn’t thought to have her put on shoes.
CHAPTER 38
In Over Her Head
There was no way anyone could hear their conversation on the beach. Nature had a way of swallowing words uttered near the ocean. Sloan knew her father was trailing behind them, keeping an eye on her. Her mother had probably sent him out to stand guard, to make sure she didn’t collapse or maybe even run away again.
Somehow Sloan knew this woman. She was pretty in an uptight kind of way. But it was apparent her mother didn’t like her and Sloan had some suspicion why.
The Ocean Inside Page 24